


Older and still vulnerable

by Okkk



Category: Great Gatsby - F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby (2013)
Genre: Bulimia, Despair, Eating Disorders
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-22
Updated: 2019-05-22
Packaged: 2020-03-09 20:23:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18924394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Okkk/pseuds/Okkk
Summary: Nick has nothing left after that summer.





	Older and still vulnerable

**Author's Note:**

> Lana del ray and a glass full of iced pepsi  
> It's really unbearably hot  
> Summers seeping through

I’m terrified of myself. When I was with Gatsby, my thoughts had moved onto something else, somebody else, several somebody else’s but now that it’s all over, all i’m left with is the fact that I’m rotting inside. It’s pathetic really. I’ve become vicious in my ways and I lie for my gain and my gain only. Before, I’d lied for others but now I have nobody to lie for but myself. I isolate myself constantly and the Nick that everybody had known before is gone. The Nick that was hungry to be successful and be a respected stockbroker. I cannot comprehend how my obsession went from Jay Gatsby to food but here I am, typing about it in all its glory. Yesterday all I thought about was food and how mortified I was after I brought some and the cashier had asked if I was throwing a party. I told her that I was and it would be splendid. 

A pity party. 

The very thing that would make my blood boil what Tom accused Gatsby of, I’ve become. A criminal. You see, I’ve stolen food and even money when I see it lying around in the office and I spend it on food. I can’t justify spending it on anything else because food is the be all and end all for me and the only way I get away with it is by lying. I’m caught in a web lies. I dictate what I do or don’t do and there’s no one left to stop me. No amount of restraint remains. 

I’ve been with the doctors for an entire year trying to get help for this ‘disease’ and though the doctor has tried to help, I simply go there for the sake of it. To get out of my own head for a little while even though all we discuss is me. It’s fun in a way, hearing myself lie to self-destruction and waste the doctors time in the process though I doubt he cares with how much he’s being paid.

I know now that this is not treatable. It’s me and I’m it. We’re each other. Other than food, all I do is think, think, think about how unworthy I am and I wonder how I still have a job and how Jordan, Gatsby, or Daisy could even stand me in the first place. I am the lowest of the lowest and for that, I deserve the worst. 

Sometimes I think about what would happen if I died and how perhaps, I’ll die from this and maybe that’s the reason I carry on doing it. I doubt anybody would care. I hate everything I do and yet I do not care to change it. I care about everything and nothing. Food. How did I become shackled by the very thing I need to live? 

I’m disgusting.


End file.
